Velocity Overload
by Cleome Thrift
Summary: A story of a high strung, fiesty girl burdenned with a distitute family, and her innate talent to a forbidden world of racing.


A/n a new story when I know I should be working on my old one but I really love motorcycles and just had to write a story about one I hope you all enjoy it.

Velocity Overload

By Cleome Thrift

Prologue

A purple bike speed around a corner at unbelievably high velocity, it could really only be seen as a purple blur in the morning due. The rider rode daringly close to the ground, body fluid with the bike. There was an audible screech as the wheels tilted so much that the tire burnt an ebony mark into the tar of the famed Osaka race track. The rider rode as if the bike was just another limb on her body. Passing a man who held a clipboard and a stopwatch the wind blew and leaves swirled.

The man looked down and with a few scratches of a pencil, marked the time with a slight frown. The man then scanned the bike as it wizzed pass, criticizing the form of the rider as well as the bike with a professional air and an intense pair of hazel eyes.

This process was repeated six times, each time the frown on his face became deeper, more apparent with worry, and each time the rider rode closer and closer to the ground around the sharp turn. As the bike neared the finish line, the rider swerved, a smooth practiced movement, the bike came into an abrupt halt, burning the tires once more. An acrid smell of burnt rubber arose but was lifted away by the wind.

Kagome took off her helmet with a pair of gloved hands, holding it under her left arm, shaking her hair out she pushed some stray locks of her black hair with her right. Kicking back the kickstand she walked briskly up to the young man holding a clipboard. Morning chill had reddened his nose, his yellow streaked hair stood up on end, and his clean shaven face that had previously held a frown now was graced with a lopsided grin. He took the helmet from her and placed it precariously on the wall behind them. He gave her a thumbs-up and handed her the clipboard.

"You did it again Kagome, broke your personal record from yesterday." He clapped her on the back, "Although you're supposed to be testing bikes, not running them into the ground." She shrugged. It wasn't as if she had damaged the bike. It had just been put together this morning.

"If I don't push the bike to its highest potential, how would you know it was ready to be ridden or not Akira? Besides I run them fast which makes my boss happy, I have a little fun which makes me happy. Don't you see this is a win win situation here? Don't be such a party pooper." Kagome stripped off her gloves with a disgusted sound. Her hand had perspired and now her glove stank of sweat. Turning she dropped the pair into the helmet.

"Yeah but you have _me_ here who's supposed to make sure you do your job right having a heart attack when an amateur rider wants to pull some crazy stunt on a hunk of metal that costs a fortune." He exclaimed dramatically placing a hand on his heart, "And then if you were to get, dare I say, _injured_ who would I bring to eat ice cream every Sunday hnn?" He finished childishly. His act had pulled a laugh out of her, something that she didn't do often these days. It was a tradition. After her Saturday and Sunday test drives, he'd take her out and bring her to an unusual ice cream store. The booths were shaped as flowers and the ice cream itself was rather unorthodox. They held almost every ice cream someone could dream up of, raisen, coconut chocolate with prunes, marshmallow with banana, and other creative mixtures. Kagome herself was a vegetarian, always preferred a banana split.

"First," Kagome ticked off a finger, "I'm not an amateur rider." The look on Akira's face clearly meant he thought otherwise, "_Second_ it doesn't really cost a fortune," Akira snorted.

"Yeah but to you it would be." He muttered.

Ignoring him Kagome ticked of a second finger, "And thirdly, there is always that whoring secretary who you could take out for ice cream, you'd make her day if you did." She finished thoughtfully. He choked eyes bulging, then sputtered and shook his head furiously waving his hands.

"No! That woman's been dogging me for months, crazy bitch thinks I'm going to help her make babies or something and here you are, a friend, suggesting I go and ask her out on a date? How absolutely horrid of you." Kagome rolled her eyes. She had to agree that the secretary _had_ been dogging him and yes she _was_ scary, with her terribly blond hair, three tons of mascara and a huge boob job but it would have been highly amusing to see what would happen if Akira were forced to spend a day with her. She'd have been laughing her head off at his expense.

A sudden fierce wind blew throughout the race track causing Kagome to shiver, chilled in her suit, and Akira to pull the worn jacket tighter around his lean form. It was still summer, albeit late summer. But the mornings had become colder as September approached. Plucking the clipboard deftly from her hands he tucked it under his arm and took the helmet of its perch.

"Come on it's chilly." The pair headed back to the locker rooms located under the stands.

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Kagome, having finished her ice cream with Akira strolled back to her house. A beat up back pack slung over her right shoulder and a text book clutched tightly in her left hand. As she walked back the side walks became shabbier and shabbier till there wasn't one and the neighborhoods which had started out pristine now were plain. Gardens sprouted weeds, bushes grew large and shapeless, flowers were withered out competed by the weeds. Trees cracked the tar with their roots causing the roads to be roughed up. The houses themselves were white, paint peeling off from the long wear. The neighborhood looked as if it had once been painted with prosperity and filled with life now was covered with a thick blanket of dirt stripped of its happiness.

Kagome, turning into sixteen Elms street took out her brass key and inserted it into a brass handle. Kagome shoved and the door swung open with a loud groan of un-oiled metal. Taking a few a steps into their living room she plopped down onto a large sofa. A woman popped her head into the living room. She wore a pink apron, hair pulled up into a neat bun and her left hand held a spatula.

"Did have a good time at the library honey?" Kagome's mother asked as she tested her dish. Kagome exhausted groaned. She didn't feel comfortable lying to her mother but it had to be done. Her parents had sometimes wondered where the access money came from when they knew that her father's income didn't cover their expenses. In truth it came from her very own paycheck that they didn't anything of.

It was the only way to maintain the household. Her father's father, or in other words, her grandfather had been killed racing and her mothers previous husband had been placed in a comma by a road race. They had cut life support shortly after they learned that his brain activity had decreased to a point of nothingness. She had probably inherited the love for speed and a dangerous trek of mind.

"Yup, learned lots of stuff about biology and finished the reading. I still need to finish the summer packet for chemistry though. I have a test first week and I better do well." Kagome replied waving the textbook. Her tongue felt dirty even as the practiced lie left her mouth. Kagome's mother just nodded and returned to the kitchen. Her parents never needed to worry about her and her studies. She tried to do well. She was a senior currently attending the most prestigious school of her district on full scholarship. Otherwise her parents couldn't afford anything else.

Hiroku High school was technically the best school with the best teachers. But the students were an entirely different story. There were two types of people that attended Hiroku. One was her type who was granted a scholarship, and the other was the one who could afford to pay for this private school. Her twin Kikyo had also been granted a scholarship but to another school.

Kagome sighed and stretched like a cat. Placing her arms behind her head she closed her eyes. In truth, the first week was actually in two days starting on a Tuesday. The first week had always been hell, tests springing up in odd places and schedules changing. Then a sudden picture appeared in her mind.

Two people her nemesis, almost identical with their silky white hair, perfectly chiseled faces, and their arrogant, pigheaded, egocentric airs. She hated them and they wouldn't have even known of her existence if it hadn't been for that incident in sophomore year. But they did and so did their followers. They were the son's of some really powerful person she couldn't really remember who and didn't really care but that fact had made her and her friends life rather hard. They had learned not to tease her for her temper but when she wasn't present they'd hurt her friends. It was a cowardly thing and she'd told them that multiple times but they wouldn't care.

She rolled a shoulder and then got up. Looking down at the ring that hung about her neck on a thin gold chain, she asked it silently why her life was so hard.

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There is a vote. The promonant male in this story is still up in the air.

The story so far could bend either way concerning Inuyasha or Sesshoumaru. Please vote as to witch one you would prefer. I have omly experience in writing Sesshoumaru but I am willing to write an Inu Kag if that is what prefer.


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